Island of Death!
by Nico rico
Summary: Story about an Island of Death!, without the ! it just wouldn't be the same.


Island of Death!

By Nick Burnette

_"From the halls of Montezu-uma, to the shores of tripo-li," _Stuck in Adam's head now, for hours. Days is what it felt like. The Marine's Hymn, from the earliest part of his adult life. An involuntary gulp of sea water and he began to sink. Adam leveled back to the water's brim with some splashing and flailing, using precious energy, and sucked in a deep breath, holding it. Natural buoyancy was key to surviving in the ocean.

Just like he was taught in boot camp, back in those days. With a full breath of air in his lungs he could float without using his limbs for almost thirty seconds before needing another breath. Pacing was the survival method here. _Just pace myself._

The taste of salt water was enough to make him want to quit. _"We will fight our country's ba-attles, in the air on land and seaa." _He hadn't had a high and tight haircut for seven years at least. A chiming sounded from the yellow satellite phone floating next to him, tied to a shoelace necklace around his neck.

"Hello?" Adam answered.

"Hi baby how are you?"

"I'm good…just hitting the spa," he replied.

"How is the vacation going?" the sweet voice asked.

"Oh…perfect!… yeah, just as planned and all….Better go to save battery. Love you!" and he hung up.

Adam floated. Nothing else to do except float. Die, actually, was another option. He could stop floating in the ocean and die. Or he could try to swim, get exhausted, and then die. He could try to order pizza with the phone…For now, at least, he would float. Oh yeah, _Marines are amphibious. _The thought forced a laugh. Or he could ride a turtle. Adam shuttered.

He tried not to think about turtles. Truthfully Adam had a great fear of swimming in the ocean. Sharks, whales, jelly fish, gigantic squids. If he saw or brushed against something it would be over. Instant panic and drowning. Or at least screaming and flailing like a girl, and then a lifetime (hopefully) of being ashamed of how scared he had been. _"Just keep swimming, just keep swimming."_

Hours went by. Take a deep breath. Blow it out, swim a little, take a deep breath, and relax. As time went on the ocean scared him less. Let something eat him, he hadn't the energy to worry about it. The sky turned majestically red as the sun set. Exhale, swim, deep breath. Stars shone on him. Exhale, swim, breath. Adam was beginning to dip a little more between breaths. Dipping more. _NO, this isn't how it ends. _He was tired. Adam fought, without really fighting. The effort would drain him too much. _Relax._ Adam's foot brushed against something.

He splashed about frantically. Nothing was there, then again he felt it. It wasn't a fish. It was sand. He swam the last few paces and passed out on the beach.

Warm sand was what he remembered waking up to first, long before he opened his eyes. He was too comfortable to move, but he was aware. The waves licked his feet occasionally. The sun was high above behind a layer of soft cloud somehow capable of occasional effortless rain. What got Adam to open his eyes was the sound of an airplane. _A dream. It was too close. Had to be a dream_.

Adam finally sat up, thirsty as any hangover had ever made him. The beach was beautiful, if he so cared at the moment. _Why didn't I vacation in Japan? Over there would have been a vending machine full of Coca Cola on this beach. Or why couldn't I have just died? Then there would have been naked women, everywhere, as per usual in heaven. _That reminded him.

"Thank you God," Adam said, half serious. Adam stood. _Beautiful beach_. _A plan, I need one of those. Stranded on a tropical island. I think there was a T.V. show about this once, the guy ate coconuts and wild birds to stay alive. What did he call it?…Roast Booby_. Adam's feet sunk into the warm sand with each step he took away from the water. The feeling of floating rocked his sense of stability for the first few steps. Oddly enough, there was a small runway as he crested the top of the beach. Trees around, beach behind, but a clearing for a small runway. _Someone lives here, but the planes' gone. Skedaddled. _

Adam soared with relief. _The homestretch! Find something to drink, some food, wait for the happy owners to come home, introduce myself without getting shot, maybe wash some dishes, and they'll be obliged to fly him back to Ngazidja, of Comoros Island proper_. He ran, well almost ran, along the runway. There was a small road that led not far to a house, single story, seemingly built into the side of a slope. Lush vegetation encircled everything not cleared by the road to this house and the runway. If you were looking for desolation, Adam could imagine nothing better.

That relief carried him all the way to the door, large windows on either side that revealed little, and one large metal door. Homely. Or not, as there wasn't a doorknob. _Ok,_ Adam thought, _not like you need to worry about neighbors here. _Adam knocked as hard as he could before pushing the door open.

"Hello?" Adam called out, and then listened. "HELLO-O!" Adam yelled again. He pounded the door a few times, making extra noise. Silence. _First things first. _The door revealed an eating area on the left, and a common area on the right with a hallway in the middle that was too dark to see into. Adam moved inside to the kitchen faucet, turning the knob to let water run. Like a dog he lapped underneath the running water, and realized he was laughing. _The ocean really did push me to the brink of sanity. God that water was good. _

Before long Adam had his initial slate of thirst filled, he set about making a meal. The fridge was stocked with some meats, probably island species, and some juices, a few things that were wrapped and marked with dates. _Bread! That will do for now, bread and water. Who are these people? Where are the Pop-Tarts?! Frozen dinners? _

The room was getting dark, Adam realized the sun was going down again. He thought about trekking back out to the beach, less than half a mile, to watch it set. The vision from the ocean was burned into his memory, he had never witnessed such natural beauty. Instead Adam found a light switch, and once lit the rooms had a very warm feeling. Soft lighting just enough to brighten without being bright, light sources cleverly hidden among wall fixtures as in fancy hotel lobbies. Aside from the fridge full of unrecognizable food, this was most inviting. Adam relaxed on the comfy couch in the common room, as he referred to it now. A pleasant abstract painting, _Van Gogh inspired perhaps_, perched on the wall where a visitor on the couch could relax and gaze upon it.

Waiting. First his foot began to tap, then the ends of his fingers. Thirst wasn't an issue, nor food anymore. Now he just waited. Adam wasn't sure he wanted to sleep on the sofa uninvited, but restlessness was winning the silent battle. The clock on the wall told a quarter to eight. _Not that late yet. Why not check out the rest of the place? As long as I leave things like I found them_. He arose.

The hallway had a light switch and revealed a somewhat unusual layout. Two doors were along each side of the hallway, but the hallway itself descended into a ramp to a lower level rather than a typical wall. Adam opened the door on his right closer to him, peeking his head in slowly. Lights came on automatically to a camcorder on a computer desk, cables, monitors, blank dvds. There were also television sets along the wall, not used or plugged in, just sitting there department store style. A screen saver of an ancient exotic fish played on the monitor.

Adam's curiosity piqued, he ventured to the door adjacent the office he found. This room was most unusually placed once Adam opened the door to see inside. Vanity mirrors and cabinets, and an array of wigs staged on mannequins sitting in front of the mirrors. He kept looking, trying to come up with what kind of room this was. _Theatre? Fashion designer? No, this feels oddly bereft of items that would accompany stage or fashion_. There were just vanity mirrors brightly lit with posed mannequins wearing wigs. Adam heard a laugh from the hallway.

He popped his head back into the hallway and listened, not moving a muscle. "Hello?" Adam called out again. The satellite phone made a low battery bleep sound. Then he heard the voice again, small but discernable and continuous as if in conversation. It continued in soft tones that he couldn't distinguish, except that it was a voice and it would not respond to his calls. He began his slow approach to the end of the hallway, looking down the ramp as it came into view. Everything was well lit without being bright. It was not alone, a woman's voice he was certain but occasionally a man's voice as well.

"Hey, I found your house, I was stranded in the ocean…," Adam could not get their attention. The lower level became a wall of layered split plastic, an easy insulator, to a refrigerated room. The temperature became much colder down the ramp way, and he could see television sets and some long tables through the plastic splits separating this cold room from the sloped hallway. Parting the plastic splits, he stopped, staring at the room. The voices were coming from television sets, there were what looked like recordings of people speaking. An interview, or at least in that vein of dialogue. Each television was placed on a stand above a table slab. The room was much colder here, and each table slab had a cadaver on it. A dead person.

The bodies lay face up, all had shaven heads. A woman's body lay closest to Adam, and as he saw her he recognized the woman on the television above as the same person. She was filmed in the common room where he had been relaxing moments before, the painting recognizable in the background. The video was not streaming in a straight recording but was broken and edited in odd ways that allowed for long pauses. As if a conversation was being held on the alternate end. Then the video would loop unnaturally and jump a frame.

Adam stepped back, stumbling and falling down. He scrambled back up to the top and ran out of the house as quickly as he could, not hesitating to close the door as he sped into the jungle night away from that house. A horrible buzzing noise met and chased him all the way down the runway to the beach where he finally stopped to look back, gasping for breath. The buzzing sounds he realized were jungle bugs, cicada like creatures, freakishly loud. Adam continued panting for much longer than should otherwise be necessary. His head spun every time he thought about that room, the bodies, so much that he wretched over and vomited in the sand.

The satellite phone rang again as he gasped for air.

"Hello?" Adam said.

"Hi honey, it's your mom."

"Hey mom, what's up?"  
"Just calling to see how your vacation is going? Getting to meet lots of people?"

"Yeah…it's going….pretty good….met some people…."

"That's good dear. I told you there was nothing to worry about going on vacation by yourself"

"Yep, you were right. Hey I better go, the phone is low on battery," and with that he hung up.

After hanging up Adam caught the sound of an airplane engine floating softly above the waves. The runway was aglow in soft blue lights now, in anticipation of a landing. Adam's heart beat out of his chest. He needed water and food again soon. More importantly, he needed a way off this island before meeting the owner. The door was still open and the lights were on. If the killer found his house with the door open and lights on…

Adam began to run back towards the house, the airplane closing in. The cover of night kept him shaded, but the plane was already making an approach. The house lights illuminated the jungle, taunting him, the closer he came. Adam wasn't sure if his legs were going to hold out as he kept running. The house crept nearer, nearer, until finally he was at the huge metal gaping door with light spilling out into the night jungle.

Adam gaped in air, unable to move forward. He was asking too much of his body, between the ocean and occasional spurts of adrenaline running up the runway and then down the runway at some serial killer island retreat intermittent with phone calls from loved ones where he was forced to lie about his very dire situations. He stumbled into the house, pushing himself to keep moving. Again flashbacks of boot camp, an exhaustion he didn't often meet in his body since joining the civilian divisions seven-ish years ago. He flipped off lights and closed the door. The sound of the propeller stopped, they had shut off the engine. Adam hobbled off the porch and into the jungle, this time closing the door behind him.

Within the first few feet of jungle brush Adam took cover near a tree for fear of making too much noise. The sound of brush would give him away and Adam hadn't the strength to fight. And he certainly didn't want to end up on a slab. Adam waited in the overgrown brush. Something crawled on him, a bug maybe. God hopefully just a bug. These islands had everything from four foot bats to prehistoric fish. Fear kept him from slapping each itch that his body began to think up. His phone beeped a low battery bleep.

Graveled footsteps could be heard walking up the road to the house. Adam waited, sweat beading on his back, wondering if his beating heart will give him away. At last they came into view. A tall man walking alongside of a man in an electric wheelchair. The man was average height, muscular, safari dressed, and no doubt herding this poor crippled victim into an exotic death ritual. They entered the house, lights came on, and Adam crept out of the jungle. The jungle seemed to absorb any light from the star cast heavens, he couldn't see more than a few feet ahead of him except for the house.

Twigs snapped and leaves rustled as he wound his way more clumsily than he hoped onto the gravel road. Adam hobbled down the runway to the plane. He had never flown a plane before. _At least the guy was old, lived most of his life_.

A covered port tucked in the small plane. Adam reached up to grab the silver handle on the plane door, and his hand held fast there. _That old man has no idea what is going to happen to him_. _All those people, probably with worried families. They deserve to know what happened to their loved ones. How long before the killer did…whatever he was going to do? Would he spend an hour video taping the man before killing him and shaving his head? _He let his hand drop off the silver door handle to the plane.

Adam looked around the shop for a machete or some blunt tool. The shop was unfortunately devoid of such items; a broom was the closest he could find. He grabbed the broom and brought it with him, beginning a slow and quiet walk back towards the house. Along the way he kept an eye out for a large rock or anything that he might be able to hurl or throw. The darkness made that an exercise in futility. The house wasn't very far, lights were on, but he could see no one in the windows. He stopped twice and looked back at the plane, but thoughts of the old man in his death throws propelled him. And, shamefully, thoughts of how it would look to everyone else as to why Adam left him there like a coward. That compelled him more than he wanted it to. Glass shattered from inside the house.

He ran up to the door, swung it open and jumped inside to see the larger man holding down the crippled old man and strangling him. The large man had several cuts on him, Adam crushed glass underfoot as he burst into the room. Both men paused to look at him. Adam slugged the man as hard as he could, knocking him across the room. Adam pounced again, pinning the man against the wall with his knee and pounding him three more times before the man went unconscious. He turned to the crippled old man.

"Are you o.k.?" Adam asked the old man, helping him back into his knocked over chair.

"Fine thank you, you arrived just in time," the elder man replied.

"You'll be safe now gramps," Adam assured him. The old man nimbly maneuvered the electric cart around broken glass and went across the room to the kitchen. He began picking up things.

"Do you have anything we can use to tie…" Adam paused before finishing the word, staring into a crossbow.

"I have many questions for you, but first things first," the wheelchair bound man said, eyes piercing and crossbow in hand.

The old man ordered Adam to handcuff himself to the lamp. Then the old man grabbed the unconscious man's leg and drug him down the ramp in the hallway to the refrigerated room, his electric chair not hindered by the additional weight. Once down there, Adam wriggled and fought to get his wrists off the tall lamp. Once successful he bolted for the door which was still open. He sprinted even as his legs were begging to quit. He ran so much slower than he wished, his heart pounding but his feet dragging. _Running again! Gah!_

^*^ What a delight to have an unexpected guest! The thought of you running, as if for a moment you think I won't get you back. But how? No one finds me here. Oh well. As for you, come with me down the ramp. There is plenty of time. What is that noise…it couldn't be! My plane! Can you even fly a plane? I want to watch! Quickly, almost there. Uh-oh, that looked bad. You just broke my plane. You'll pay for breaking that.

But back to my guest of honor. Tougher, and faster, than I expected. To think you almost had me. How ironic that man saved me from you, when he should have been helping save you from me. But don't worry little froggy. Now, let me shave that head of yours. Don't move. No, please don't wake up. Stay unconscious or this will end quicker than I want it to. Damn it. Oh well ^*^.

The plane was somewhat buoyant but as water filled her she began to sink. Adam wasn't buckled and was wiping blood off his forehead. He struggled against the door but it wouldn't budge. And he was still handcuffed. He began throwing his weight against the door, water was keeping it shut inside the cabin. Adam starting looking for a way to wrench the cuffs off, twisting and trying to squeeze his hand out. Quickly his wrists cried out against it, plus he didn't need to be bleeding in the water attracting sharks or who knows what. _Second plane crash in as many days. I should write a book about this._

Water filled the cabin up to his neck now and he sucked in a remaining deep breath before committing to underwater. Pushing against the door, calmly and deliberately working the handle. Adam remembered thanking God earlier that day, he was ready to take it back. The door softly opened, finally, and Adam began a desperate swim out of the plane. His feet kicked fine, but he searched for a usable rhythm with his handcuffs. _Thank you God._

He couldn't even think of swimming anywhere beyond the nearest inch of land, his handcuffs made it a desperate exercise and the phone on a shoestring necklace around his neck didn't help much either. He swam and swam, not content just to float, and he finally made it onto the beach on his hands and knees. The night sky sparkled like a diamond studded ceiling, silhouette painting the tree line. _Just rest. There isn't a way out of here yet. I have to face him. Just get my strength back first. Deep breaths. Then I'll burn the place. I'll burn this whole cursed island down! _The phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi sweetie, it's me again! How was the spa?"

"Oh…great…yeah….relaxing…real…..wet?"

"Good! I can't wait for you to come back. I'm craving a burrito from the taco place!"

"Yeah…that sounds good. I better go…low battery."

^*^ That's better, I told you not to struggle. Now, back to my surprise guest with the yellow phone. If you didn't drown. Oh I hope you didn't. No need to miss out, you came _all_ this way. Dum-du-dee-dum du-deedum-dum-do. Come my froggy. Where are you. Spend eternity here with me, with our friends.

Bad frog for crashing my plane, but you will make it up to me. I'm so excited to let you make it up to me!! This gun is used to stun bigger animals but you will do. A gift from my neighbor, the butcher. Ooh, you look so tired way down there. On the phone? You don't see me yet, do you? Just a little closer. That's it…ahhhhh. Stings, doesn't it. Someone calling you?

"Uh….he…hello?"

_"Hi!… who is this?"_

"……..…Joe."

"_Hi Joe! You must be with Adam! Are you guys having fun? This is his mother Trina."_

"…….Yep, loads, better go, I think the battery is low." ^*^

_Alive_. A long darkness, with his most conscious thought being that he existed. He opened his eyes with great effort for a moment before they shut down hard as bricks. He had been under anesthesia before. Adam could hear voices on television. He knew what those were. He knew where he was.

There was pain in his left leg at the shin. He opened his eyes again, this time for a full second before they shut. There was a soft tv glow coming from above him. His conscious mind fought as his body slowly began to come around. In small ways at first; a finger movement, a deliberate deep breath. Another noise he heard, an electric motor. Like at his dad's old carpentry shop. A little adrenaline entered his blood when he heard the motor come on. Something was being cut.

Adam rocked his head forward and held his eyes open, trying to shake off the drugging. The anesthesia was wearing off, but it still required massive concentration to do anything physical yet. Adam visually inspected the room. As feared, he was on a slab in a room that was illuminated with the soft glow of other televisions. His was not the only slab. There were others. The ones with dead bodies, hairless, barely clothed. Televisions above them. The pain in his leg was agonizing.

Adam forced himself to glance at his leg. Something was wrong with his leg. His head slammed back down in exhaustion causing a metal clank noise. The electric motor stopped. Adam held his breath and kept still.

The chair wheeled over, Adam kept his eyes shut and breathed slowly as possible. "You can't be waking up yet…it has only been two hours," he heard the voice. Adam heard the chair roll right up to him, and then could smell the man's breath, feel it on his face as he neared, Adam could sense his closeness. "Involuntary convulsion, probably nothing…" the man muttered as he wheeled away. Within moments he was cutting again with the electric saw. Adam didn't want to think about it, he was focusing on getting his body to wake up. He had startled the doctors too, when he was a boy. He'd woken up in the middle of the operation, and they had to give him more anesthesia. Something about his body processing things at accelerated rates. Even once in his teens he was bit by a venomous snake, part of his adventure around Okinawa, a local snake feared by villagers for it's fatal kiss. He was fine within a day.

Adam thought about the man being cut in the other room. Probably the man he attacked earlier, thinking he was the killer. Adam had doomed them both. He forced himself to look up again, this time easier than before. He swung his legs to the side to get up, but the moment he got onto his feet he collapsed. The whirring noise continued, unaware. Adam dragged himself along the floor, past the plastic flaps. All the while the whirring motor sound continued.

Adam used the wall to steady himself up. At first he gripped the rail to keep himself upright, but then it became easier. He almost took another step, before suddenly realizing for the first time why he fell moments ago. Looking down, it was not _his_ left foot. Adam's head spun, he gripped the railing harder to keep upright.

Any drowsy effect of the drug was replaced with pure rage. The whirring sound stopped, he heard the electric cart coming. Adam hobbled along the wall to the side of the plastic flaps. The old man's cart came whirring into the adjoining room leading to the ramp. Still leaning on the wall for support Adam grabbed the bastard by his neck. The old man's eyes widened in surprise and Adam felt a sharp pain in his side. The old guy had a scalpel in his hand. Adam lifted the man by his neck and dumped him to the ground on his head. The old guy screamed and stabbed wildly, but Adam wouldn't let go. He felt the neck snap.

Adam's face relaxed from a contorted teeth gritting snarl. He was bleeding out of his ribs and along his arms, and close to his neck. His scalp was bleeding too, possibly from the plane though. Nothing was spurting, that was good. He wouldn't bleed out as long as he found something to stitch himself up with. Adam looked at the blade in the man's hand, a doctor's scalpel. The phone rang in the other room. He up-righted the electric chair and got to it by the fifth ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey baby, what time is it over there?"  
"…noon?"

"Yeah, it's like three or four am here. I can't sleep"

"Oh….that's too bad…"

"Plus you are out there on vacation having all this fun while I have to deal with mid terms and my boss!"

"Yeah…I'll make it up to you. Better go, low battery."

He hung up and went about finding some items to stitch himself up with. It didn't take long to get the hang of the electric chair, controls were straightforward. He later made some food, drank some water, and passed out, all the while trying to figure out how to get the hell off the island.

A week went by and Adam wasn't able to stand being on the island with the bodies anymore. The phone died also. He then torched the entire house, creating a fire as big as possible.

Adam had also learned a few of the fruit trees nearby and setup a rain collection tarp for water. Before torching the place he gathered any tools he might need for building a floater.

Adam sat on the beach, trying to make plans. He couldn't believe his eyes as he watched a yacht approach the island.

*^* I smell…smoke? Dr. Wheels! He must have been cooking again. Damn it! I was in the middle of something…oh well. A snip there…good. Lucky for you that I was called away, it got a lot worse believe me. My pretties…I can't help but spare a moment gazing at them before I go see what is the matter. So free, posed along the wall in various pieces, not confined to one body anymore. They thank me, for liberating them. The fear in their eyes as I cut limbs away is fear of the unknown. Now they thank me.

It's a short trip in my yacht to Dr. Wheel's Island…jeepers that smoke is billowing very strongly!! Dear me, I sense that all is not well with my dear friend Dr. Wheels…I see a man on the island. The fact that he is standing tells me something grim. Oh, you will pay for that! Oh, _please_, wave me down. Keep waving! Yep, I can see in your eyes you think I'm here to save you!! I'll save you alright! You long to be free, do you? *^*


End file.
